fablefanonfandomcom-20200214-history
The Tranquil Forest
A Time to Forget. 2.1) The Tranquil Forest. 2.1.1) ISSIAH The large forest was peaceful and calm. The only thing that could be heard was the singing of birds and the rustling wind through the leaves in the trees. Until… “OWW” That was the sound of the half cut travelling farmer stubbing his toe on a rock hidden in a bush. The screeching sound suddenly broke the serenity of the wood. Issiah had been travelling through the trees off the beaten path for hours now. He had left the farm he owned “Orchard farm” to make the special trip into the heart of great wood. Remind me why you’re doing this again? He had taken to talking to himself a lot whilst he was on these little alcohol influenced missions. It passed the time and there was never the risk that anyone would see him talking to himself as he was alone so deep in the forest. Just all the lovely forest creatures to talk to. He laughed out loud at the thought even though it wasn’t funny. His current mission was of the upmost importance. His mission was vital to the very fabric of his existence. His mission was…….to get a new type of……. Apple. Not only had Issiah never tasted the succulent, sweet but ugly looking fruit, that had been named “The Hobbe Apple” but more importantly he never used it to make his favourite gentleman’s beverage. “MY SCRUUUUMMMPPPYYY” he sang into the vast forest ahead of him. He started to laugh again when he noticed something. What’s that smell? He stopped and took a second to look around his surroundings to try and find the source of the foul smell. It was an earthy smell with undertones of rot and maybe some sort of poo. As he looked around for the source of the smell he saw that there were lots of trees….not a single apple tree though. He looked towards his feet. The sunlight’s rays scattered dots of light all over the shrubbed forest floor.. Any number of wild animals could have done their business under these shrubs. That’s where the smell will be coming from. I am starting to wish that I had put a quest card into the guild to get these apples for me. Issiah had made quite a number of friends at the hero guild. Notably he knew the Hero of Oakvale himself. He had even given him some simple quests in the past. These days the Hero of Oakvale was far too famous to lurk about looking for apples in the wood especially after he gave that jack of blades a good hiding. Issiah’s main point of contact now with the guild was the guild master who bought plenty of Iassiah’s Scrumpy for the mess hall. Apparently the heroes lapped it up. It was great for business. He decided to simply ignore the smell and continue on. The hobbe apple tree must be close the map says I’m in the right area. He turned the map upside down and tried the match it to the trees in front of him. To no avail. He started to doubt the accuracy of the hand drawn map he had. He had acquired the map and the idea of making some scrumpy from hobbe apples from a random guy in the pub in Bowerstone. Issiah was only now starting to realise that he maybe shouldn’t of put his faith in this map. Which could only be described as basic to say the most. That smell is getting worse. Issiah smelt his arm pits. It was mid day and it was a bit stuffy in the forest. After an adequate inspection he decided that the smell from his armpits wasn’t the foul smell that was bothering him. However, he did decide that he would benefit from a bath this evening if he ever found these apples and got back to orchard farm. SNAP That sound came from behind him and it was definitely the sound of a twig or small branch snapping. Except it wasn’t him who had stepped on the branch. It would seem I am not alone. He jumped around towards where the sound came from. “Who’s there? Anyone? Anybody? You don’t need to be shy. I have a spare bottle of Issiah’s scrumpy I could share with you” There was no response. He shrugged it off and decided that he must be hearing things. After all he had already consumed about 2 litres of scrumpy since he started this journey…. it could be his imagination. A croaking gargling sound was heard now from behind him. He stopped. He recognised the sound. Through his tipsyness he now remembered what the smell was. Its unique pungeant smell could be recognised instantly if you weren’t so drunk. Hobbes. Issiah turned around slowly with the scrumpy bottle he was holding ready to strike like a make shift baton. As he turned a sudden relief washed over him. It wasn’t a hoard of hobbes. It was just one. It was a baby hobbe……well a toddler he thought…..and it was wearing a nappy. The hobbe looked pleased to see him. It seemed to be distressed. “errrr…..hello….little hobbey…..what’s the matter petal….er…son….er….are you a baby boy or girl? I can’t tell?” Maybe I should throw it some scrumpy and leg it? The baby hobbe started to make motions and pulling on its nappy. It seemed to want it off. Why does a hobbe have a nappy on? Nevernmind…. “You want that nappy off don’t you?” “aaaddd aackktt aaagjjkjk” was the sound the little creature made. “Do you want me to take that off you little one?” Issiah couldn’t quite believe what he was doing. As he knelt down next to the little creature he went to unhook the nappy………… and then it jumped on him. “What the?..!!!” The little creature pounced on Issiah clawing at his face and trying to bite him. “atch acahh shh kojhdoAFFFDD!!!!!” it screamed as it seemed to increase its intensity of attack. The creature was only small about the size of a human toddler so Issiah easily was able to grab its arms and in one fluid motion hurled it with all his force at a nearby tree. It his the trunk of the tree with a massive Thud sound and dropped to the ground motionless. He looked down and realsed that he was missing the bottle he was carrying. His mini battle with the baby hobbe had made him drop his scrumpy. Which made him mad. He ran over quickly to where the baby hobbe was starting to come around from its tree thud and he grabbed it again. Its eyes were slightly open and even for a hobbe looked dazed and confused. Before Issiah had a chance to scream “wheres my scrumpy???” he heard another voice. “ARRCHHJKK KKTT TAA TAA” Issiah now realised that the baby hobbe can’t have been alone. He glanced to his right and looked at the hoard glaring back at him . There most of been at least twenty adult Hobbes stood there watching him hold the baby. The biggest one about 3 foot tall pointed to the baby Issiah was holding “ARRCHHJKK KKTT TAA TAA” Issiah though it would be best to put the little hobbe down and back away slowly and once he had distanced himself far enough away he would turn and make a run for it. He placed the hobbe down gently and stood up slowly he then started walking backwards. “Calm see? No bother….Ill be just going now.” He said quietly as he backed off. The pack of hobbes slowly moved towards the baby. Could it be? Could it be that they will leave me alone because they are more concerned about their baby? He had made a good distance away from the hoard at least 20 yards before he tripped over the scrumpy bottle…… As he hit the deck. He heard the pack scream. “TAAAK TAAAAAAAK!!!!!” He looked up to see the hoard running towards him crude weapons raised. He knew he didn’t stand a chance. Why didn’t I get a hero to do this? I am going to die…… all over an apple. At that moment he felt the ground shake just behind him. He turned to look to see probably one of the largest men he had ever seen jumping over him and towards the hoard of hobbes lightning quick. As the giant moved his speed was almost impossible for his size. It was hard to make out the movment of his legs as it was that fast. Issiah lay there and watched the giant mans first impact with the hoard. Many of the little creatures flew back 30 or 40 feet. Issiah could have sworn that one particular creature had even cleared the highest tree tops from one of the giants kicks. The sounds of cries and snapping of little hobbe bones were the next sounds he heard. As quickly as it had happened the pack got scared and immediately escaped. The leader managed to pick up the baby hobbe as he fled. The whole thing happened so quick issiah could believe his eyes. The large man stood there looking for any more obvious threats. He was large. Maybe 7ft high with a muscular frame. He had shaggy black hair with a thick layer of stubble on his face. Wow…he must be a Hero. The giant man moved over to where Issiah lay. Man…. he’s bigger then the hero of Oakvale… Then he reached out his massive hand to help up Issiah. “Are you OK? He said with a deep booming voice.” “Yes…..yeah….I think so…..Thank you hero…” “I am no Hero. Just a woodcutter.” The large man said. “Excuse me but ive seen movements like that before in heroes. I’m sorry for the mistake….and your strength…… You kicked a hobbe over a tree!!” “I don’t think it was over the tree…..Maybe into the branches…” the giant man was clearly joking. “ha ha….I…..anyway.. I thank you woodcutter. Please want is your name?” “Scotty” he smiled as he said it. “Just Scotty” Issiah mumbled. “Yeah” “You look a bit a beat up and if you like we have plenty of ale and meat back at our camp. It’s not far from here. Maybe an hour of so. You look like you need it. I just need to finish collecting this wood.” “That would be most generous thanks. I like a gentleman’s beverage.” Noticeably perked up by the mention of alcohol. “Don’t we all?” Scotty replied. “I’m just set up over here you can sit on the horse cart while I load the last of the wood.” The two men walked about 5 minutes to where Scotty was felling trees. Issiah couldn’t believe his eyes. “The Hobbe Apple Tree” he shouted very excitedly. “Yeah, me and my mentor Ronald come to great wood especially for the wood from these trees. There are perfect for furniture and arrow making. Much better quality then the trees we get from gibbet woods where we live. We can make more money selling this wood at market.” “I see… do you use the fruit as well???” “Well….. I just bin it…..usually. You can’t make furniture from fruit can you? And you sure you didn’t bang your head?” “You can’t make furniture but you can make scrumpy!!!! Please Scotty if you will can I take a sack of these apples and make a batch of scrumpy? If it tastes like I think it will it will be a most popular beverage in Albion and will make us a fortune. Every time you fell one of these trees you could provide me with the fruit at my farm. ITS A PERFECT PARTNERSHIP!” “Ha woooooohhh sir. We would have to pass that by the boss. He’s back at camp. He’s old these days so he just sits about and makes me do all the work. He still makes the decisions though with regards to the business. Grab your apples for now and we will see what he says.” The large man started picking up logs that no ordinary man would have the strength to pick up like they were toothpicks. Issiah sat there gathering stray apples and though to himself. It was a good job I didn’t hire a hero after all…. 2.1.2) RONALD Ronald Lay by the camp fire contemplating getting up. These days he found even the simplest things took it out of him. I’m too old. Too weak. I’m not what I used to be. Ronald was now eighty and he felt it. No longer was the woodcutter’s life of felling trees and travelling to market to sell it ever going to be as easy as it once was. Thank the heavens for the lad. On that thought Ronald sat up and started to prepare Scotty’s lunch. He knew that he was too weak now to chop trees and load the cart but he could still make a good meal for his lad. Over the last two decades Ronald and Scotty had been living together, Ronald had considered him like an adopted son. The two of them shared a strong bond as any son and a farther would. Often people would remark “Wow Ronald, your son is huge now.” Scotty and Ronald would never correct people; they would always let people think they were related. They both felt that way anyway. Ronald loved Scotty he was his son and he would do anything for the lad. Yeah….Scotty’s going to be hungry…..always is in fact. Ronald had a sack of apples and root vegetables and a quarter pig with him. Not to mention the mini keg of ale they had brought. He decided it would be best to cook the pig whole and make a stew from some of the meat and mix the apples and root vegetables in with it. He placed the ingredients on the fire and started to stir the big stewing bowl he had. Hopefully this will fill him….better add lots of water. He placed maybe twenty whole potatoes and six quartered turnips into the water. Next he added four pints of ale and eight halved apples. He started to tear bits of meat of the pig when he heard the carriage approach. “I hope my dinners ready Ronald.” Scotty shouted in a joking way. “You may be big Scotty, but you know I won’t put up with any lip lad.” As Scotty stopped the horse cart he started to laugh. “I know you wouldn’t boss.” He smiled. Ronald looked at the half drunk man that Scotty had sat beside him. “Who’s that and why is he on my cart?” “Who that? Well that’s Issiah. He’s had quite an eventful afternoon. Haven’t you Issiah?” Issiah jumped off the horse cart and shook Ronald’s hand. “Nice to meet you sir. I have a business proposal for you…” Issiah jumped straight in to the business proposal that he had explained to Scotty and how it was guan teed to make them a killing in Bowerstone selling both furniture and Scrumpy from the hobbe apple trees. Ronald served the food and drink to the men before sitting down beside the fire himself. “Issiah you have got your self a deal. You can start production right away. We travel to Bowerstone in a week would you be able to have your batch ready?” “hic….hic….what?” Issiah responded. “Are you drunk again?” Scotty remarked. “tis this ale. Tis not nice as me scrumpy but still nice.” It wasn’t long before Issiah was asleep. Ronald said to Scotty. “So what do you think? Can we make some money of this guy?” “Possibly I think having him about is more entertainment value then anything.” They both sat there eating their meals and laughing as they always did now. The Past was a vague memory for Scotty and he didn’t revisit it often as the pain was now buried down inside him. Some may have called him a coward but for Scotty he didn’t think so. He preferred to ignore his past. His present was with Ronald and now Issiah that’s all that mattered to him. 2.1.3) BLIND BUT STILL SEES Bowerstone market was quieter then usual. It was probably due to the rain beating down like a constant shower. Many of the stalls fabric roofs had socked through and in some case come down completely. Even still there were still some punters about. The sound of deals being made could still be heard through the wind and the rain. In the centre of the market was a small tree that around it had a crude wooden bench its small branches and leaves moved with the winds. Some would say that it was out of place. Indeed when the markets were busy it wouldn’t be ideal to sit as the footfall would likely sweep a person sitting there away. Today though. The hooded woman approached the tree. She turned around and perched herself on the bench softly. She slid slowly along to face a particular stall. The stall she faced was a shop working out of the back of a horse cart. By the smell of it, it sold raw wood. The sign on the side of the Cart read. “Ron and Scotty’s hobbe apple woodery” It looked to sell all lengths and sizes of the precious wood. The hooded woman had being on this bench before and when this particular trader was there. She noticed the tall man shouting about the discounts that they were offering today. This week as expected they appeared to be another man selling bottles of apple cider from the same stall. “This is the week.” She said under her breathe to no one in particular. Just then the man selling the cider tripped over a bag of hobbe apples into the crude tables he made to hold the bottles of cider. The bottles smashed all over the floor and apples rolled out everywhere in all directions. “NOOOO MY SCRUMPYYY!” came the cries from the man who must of being drunk. Then she felt it. She felt the slight touch of the apple at her heal. This particular apple was always going to hit her foot and was going to allow her to plant the seed she needed to ensure her plans came to fruition. “Excuse me madam.” Came the low toned booming voice of the young tall man. “My friend he dropped all of his apples can I have that one back?” “Of course…..for a minute of your time.” The hooded woman said. The tall man couldn’t see her face. She didn’t look up at him she simple placed her hand on the bench and said one word. “Sit” in a gentle and inviting way. It took the large man a few seconds to sit down. This may of being because it was difficult for a man of 7ft to sit on a bench meant for children, or it may of being because he was trying to fathom why a blind woman would want to speak with him and sit next to her. He sat next to her, she could feel the weight of him when he sat down. “Thank you. Here is your apple. My name is Theresa.” She said in a distinctive low pitched voice. “Nice to meet you….I think….I am Scotty.” The man returned. “That is your name but not who you are.” She said abruptly and left a few seconds gap before speaking again. “I know who you are. I know what you must do. I have seen it.” She looked directly at him. For the first time the large man could see her eyes. Her pupils were white the shade of clouds. She touched his stubbly face. “So young and still too weak. You will not be able to avenge your family until you are stronger.” Scotty started to pull away. “Do not be worried. Do not go away. Remember 1 apple for 1 minute.” She said. “How do you know this?” Scotty said with the sound of confusion in his voice. “This is the way of things.” She replied quickly. She rummaged around in her sachet and pulled out an old music box. “This box was my brother. It has a power to help you. You must only use it when the time comes.” She passed him the box. “But when will I know to use it?” Scotty said. “You will know.” She said standing up. “The next chapter in your life is coming. Make sure then you tie up any lose ends.” She nodded towards the horse and cart selling the wood and then pointed her finger towards the gates of Bowerstone. “You need to go there before you take him on and avenge your. I have seen this. It’s what is meant for you. It’s your destiny Kingsley. Do not forget who you are” Scotty stood up next to her still holding the box. The rain seemed to beat down harder now. Theresa started to walk away. “Good bye Kingsley. May your enemies meet their destiny too.” Scotty still confused by this whole thing shouted. “Where were you pointing? What did it mean?” The woman stopped and said back to him softly. “The guild of heroes.” Then continued to walk away. 2.1.4) THE BRAWLER The evening was still young in the Axe and Scottman. The air was heavy and stagnant and smelt of sweat. There was a cold breeze coming from the entrance of the inn. Seb and weak arms had retreated to a table next to the fire. Big Jack had taken a break in the story to serve some other punters. It had become quite busy in the last hour or so with many passing traders coming in for ale on their way to or from Farna. Seb had thought about leaving so he could find an inn in Farna so he could be up early for the morning’s trade. However, he had convinced himself that he needed to stay here and get a room for the night as that would save him the walk in the darkness to Farna. In Reality though, it was because he wanted to finish the story Jack had started about the axe. Seb took a moment to look at the axe again. The light from the nearby lights reflected from its head through the crowd of men who were waiting to be served at the bar. “I was like that to begin with too.” Weak arms said with a quiet laugh. Seb’s stare was broken he looked at the funny old man. “You were? Does it glow or is it me?” Seb questioned. “Some say so. I don’t see it myself….Hee….Its a Magic Axe….all very interesting.” The old man chuckled to himself while scratching his white haired head. “Its Magic as well as being huge?” “Oh yeah…Hee….the is to blame. It’s the reason why I persist.” “You persist? You are extremely strange little fella aren’t you?” Seb took a swig of ale and tried to understand what weakarms was harping on about now. Weak arms raised his hand and pointed to the axe. He wasn’t a frail old man. He looked it but when he moved he moved like a young man. It was a bit strange. “At the end of the hilt there was a Box. Kingsley grafted it on. The box was this beautiful old thing with patterns on the sides. Looked quite out of place attached to that old thing.” Seb was tiring of weakarms stories that never made sense. “What are you rabbiting on about now old man.” “Listen…..Hee……The box is what made the axe magic. It’s what made me magic….Well more magic anyway. Its what makes me persist.” “You are making less sense the more you explain.” The younger man said rubbing his eyes and yawning with boredom. The old man for some reason suddenly looked sad his seemingly constant smile dissolving away in an instant. He put his hands on his face and shrugged his shoulders. He spoke through his palms. “One day….as I recall…. When we were young….me and Kinsley were out adventuring. Kingsley had gone to get us some food….the axe it was…… just there and I was curious…..I had noticed the box previously and Kingsley had always being guarded about telling me about it…..The most I got was it was a gift from an old woman…..I took my chance….I regret it now….I wasn’t to know…..” Seb’s focus was now very much on weak arms his boredom very much subsided. “Did you steal the box?” Seb said with curiosity with a hint of excitement. Weak arms removed his hands and looked at Sebastian with guilt in his eyes. “Worse…..I opened it….It wasn’t meant for me….it was meant for Kingsley….Its power made the axe glow and made me…. well…..magic.” Seb’s then realised then that this man was insane and the look on his face obviously showed it. “So where is the magic box now? Magic man?” he said in a sarcastic tone. The old man looked ashamed. “He took it off the axe and gave it to me as a gift….he wasn’t angry…he never said anything about again other then….that she said he would know when the time came to open it….I guess that time never came for him...I was deeply ashamed of myself for doing it. I wanted him to be angry with me but he never was.” From towards the bar loud voices could be heard cutting through the ambiance of the inn like a cymbal crash in an orchestra. Big Jack shouted from behind the bar towards two largely built men. They were no big Jack but they may have caused him issues if they both went for him at the same time. “GET OUT OR RONALDS REVENGE WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.” Jack shouted at the two men from behind the bar and placed his hand on the hilt of the Axe. “Who da ya think ya are? I’m Dex the leader of da west coast bandits. For tha insult ya av to giv me all yer gold.” The larger of the two men wore a mish mash of clothes that now after he announced himself as a bandit it was like everyone should of realised but didn’t. The large man was clearly drunk and looking for trouble. It didn’t look like Jack was having any of it. “Both of you have until the count of three to get out of here.” The smaller of the two bandit men piped up he was shorter and fatter but had a face tattoo that made him look vicious. “Boss lets just go I cant be arsed with this” “NAH, who does he tink he is? He gona down.” The Bandit leader drew a dagger and started waving it at big Jack. Jack without hesitation grabbed his arm and slammed it down on the bar. The crack of the bones in the mans arm sent shivers of Sebs spine. The bandit leader dropped the dagger and screamed out in pain. The smaller bandit jumped over the bar onto big Jacks back and tried to get him into a head lock. Big jack easily grabbed the mans head and threw him over his shoulders onto the bar with a crash knocking over various drinks that were on the bar. He then used a heavy elbow to plant a precision hit into his abdomen. The man rolled off the bar onto the floor making no sound. He looked to be seriously winded. “Oh dear me…hee…..I should help” weak arms said. Seb couldn’t believe what was happening. “Ron, do me a favour and grab that one will ya?” big jack shouted pointing to the Smaller bandit. Weak arms stood up and ran over towards the brawl. Ron eh? Seb thought to himself as he picked up the small winded bandit. Jack made easy work of the larger man picking him up by his throat with one hand and throwing him out into the cold night the sound of him hitting the floor could be heard from the inside of the inn. Seb and a few of the other punters were now watching the entertainment from the safety of a bay window. That must of hurt Seb thought. Ron pushed the smaller man out to “Don’t come back here.” Ron said with a completely different tone to his usually playful one. The smaller man picked him self up and ran off. The large man was still laid in the dirt holding his fractured arm screaming. Ron turned his back and started walking back into the inn. The large man then jumped up and ran at Ron. “RON!” Seb shouted from behind the class. He looked over at Seb just as the bandit plunged another dagger into the back of the old man. The Bandit then quickly turned and ran off into the darkness of night. Ron dropped to his knees and spat out a mouthful of blood. Big jack quickly came to his aid and picked him up easily like rag doll. He brought the old man back into the inn with incredible speed. It was difficult to see what was blood and what was the Red hood the old man was wearing. “EVERYONE OUT NOW!” Jack shouted. Everyone started leaving hastily. Seb headed for the door mostly in shock from what had just happened. He was the last one heading towards the door. When he heard a weak voice call out. “Seb” Ron said through blood gurgling in his throat. Seb came over to wear jack was holding the old man. “This is gonna hurt Ron.” Jack pulled the dagger from Rons back. The old man hardly made a sound. Blood poured from his back. “Seb” he said again with his eyes glazing over motionless. His breaths had become slow and his limps limp the mans life slipped away and with that he died in Jacks arms. Seb didn’t know what to do. He dropped to his knees and started shaking. He thought it may be shock. Big Jack was covered in Rons blood. He looked at Seb. Still holding t he corpse. “Have you seen this? He’s bled all over my new clothes. I always tell him to never turn your back on a bandit.” Seb looked at Big Jack confused. “He’s just been murdered and youre worried about your clothes?” “Yes.” Big jack said. Seb couldn’t believe what he was hearing from big Jack. “I’m sorry Jack I will get them cleaned.” came the voice of Ron. He sat up looking at his blood stained hood. “It’s a good job….heh….that this hood is red…hides the blood.” “Ron?....Weakarms?…How? Are you?.....” Seb said looking at the dagger wound that had miraculously healed. “How am I alive…..heh…..Like I said…..I persist….young man” “Yeah but how?” “I have told you. Kingsley’s box. The one that was on that axe. It made me…well…. Magic” The old man started to laugh. Again.